


Torn and Frayed

by 24wolfie11



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anger Management, Angst, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Boys In Love, Chimeras, Confused Stiles Stilinski, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Thinks He is a Bad Father, Distraught Dean, Don't Like Don't Read, Double Anal Penetration, Drug-Induced Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, False Memories, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Hurt Stiles, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealous Theo Raeken, Kissing It Better, Loss of Virginity, M/M, McCall Pack, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Night Terrors, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oblivious Pack, Oblivious Scott, Oblivious Stiles, One-Sided Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Scott, Psychological Torture, Psychopath Theo Raeken, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rescue, Retired Hunter Dean, Retired Sam, Rough Sex, Safe Haven, Scared Stiles, Scott McCall Loves Stiles Winchester, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Sheriff Stilinski is Not Stiles Stilinski's Parent, Skull Fucking, Sleep Deprivation, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, Stiles is Okay, Stiles-centric, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Top Scott McCall, Top Theo, Trouble, Underage Sex, Werewolf Theo Raeken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24wolfie11/pseuds/24wolfie11
Summary: Everyone knew what had happened, everyone knew the story. However, no one knew the pain and struggle; the feeling of wanting to be clean. Rubbing and scratching the skin on your body to get rid of the touch. Showering too many times to count to get rid of the scent, but no matter what you do, it's still there.He walked in, perfect as ever, the second most trustworthy person in my life; after my best friend of course. He made me smile, made me happy; made me who I am - what I am, today. Torn to shreds with little to no hope, screaming for the person I wanted more than anything to save me, save me from the monster he said he would never become, but I guess that's the thing about people; they lie. Every touch, smirk, and word engraved in my brain, even with the constant black outs and overdoses.I escaped. 15 months in hell. I escaped. Running where I knew I would always be safe; protected. The few people who had been there for me since the beginning. I knew they would be there when I needed them; and I needed them.The question that left me standing in the wake of the hospital doors;Did they need me?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this fan fiction, I have made it where Stiles, played by Dylan O’Brien, is actually 5’7” not 5’10” and Scott, played by Tyler Posey, is 5’11” not 5’10”. Everyone else will remain their normal height. This is an AU, the supernatural does exist, and everyone introduced, up to the closing of season 5b, is alive and supernatural. So Allison, Aiden, Boyd, and Erica are alive, and Isaac, Derek, Jackson, Danny, and Ethan never left. Minor: Jackson Whittemore/Ethan, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, Kira Yukimura/Malia Tate, Mason Hewitt/Corey Bryant, and Liam Dunbar/Hayden Romero.

The darkness of the twilight gave off the memory of Death; of _him_. The sickly pale orb of night appeared to be floating in the seemingly nonexistent sky; the single source of light for the boy on the run. Sporadic and irregular puffs of air left the chapped and callused lips, a problem that could’ve been avoided, but past attempts to escape have failed, and taking chances isn’t an option. This time however, more distance had been covered than before. Fire erupted within the tight, overused muscles; running much longer wasn't an option, but neither was stopping. The slightest break, the smallest stop for air to breathe and for muscles to relax, meant more time lost to get as far as possible. From prior knowledge town was becoming closer and closer with every muscle aching step to freedom; to _home_.

Blurs of luminescence appeared on the horizon; bulbs of civilization. Asphalt beneath pale, bare feet, becoming more solid. Reaching the outer limits of town; old, cracked roads left behind, replaced with new, smoothed roads and boulevards to take their place, as to no longer destroy more of the broken boy. Crimson smears, jagged cicatrices; spider webs and illustrations strewn over the small frame. Fragments of fabric hung off the weakened, frail body of the fair toned, mole covered, teen.

Silence consumed the sound, keeping an edge like a knife to the boy’s throat. Fear and adrenaline push the burning muscles, encouraging them to continue and hold on, just as the teen had in his weeks of captivity. It wasn’t much longer before the houses and buildings came into his perspective. Running until he made it to the hospital where he knew, surrounded by people, he could have some sense of security from the monster that no doubt was already on their way to find him, but he was never safe, never again.

In the wake of the glass sliding doors of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital the inner conflict was beginning to build all over again. He couldn’t stay out here, in the open, unsafe; but he couldn’t go in either, these people, the ones who lost him, the ones he lost, he couldn’t ruin whatever lives they had created since that night by entering this building. Exhaustion began to flood through his veins, drowsiness consumed him and stars of light began to appear like stars in his vision. Plodded steps through the doors, he needed this, to be in a better place, to be around people, to be away from danger; from _him_.

Sights blurred, and sound buzzed together, he wasn’t going to last much longer, he was going to pass out and he didn’t know if he could stop it. Carrying on to the front desk in slow, and heavy steps seemed to take forever and he didn’t know if he’d get much farther, to tell the receptionist who to look for, if they were still around, but he needed to try, he’d come so far and he couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t go back. The pain and exhaustion seemed to grow heavier with every step, with every push to get farther. Blurs of body-like figures in greens, blues and pinks seemed to notice him, but he only wanted one,

“Melissa. Get…Melissa.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in so long, had some writer's block for a bit, and I've kind of just been down in the dumps the last few days, but I have been working on this chapter, hope it meets all of your expectations!

** Third Person POV: **

_ 1 month to disappearance: _

_“Stiles!” Scott exclaimed in horror as he saw the state of his best friend._

_“I’m fine Scotty, I’m fine. Just a couple of cuts and bruises, I’ll be fine.” Stiles tried to brush off the fact that he was in a lot of pain, not releasing the knowledge to his best friend that it was_ him _, and he couldn’t, he has to protect Scott. “You always protect the ones you love.” His father had told him that when he was younger and still learning about friendship._

_“Who did this? What happened?” Worry shined in the chocolate brown, puppy dog eyes, and maybe something else, but the mole covered boy couldn’t figure it out, maybe care, or love? The whiskey eyed boy had trouble indentifying it._

_“I’m alright; I was just clumsy and got into some trouble. You know there seem to be more chimeras appearing?”_

_“You had a run in with a chimera? Why didn’t you call me? Or call anyone else in the pack for that matter? Or even your dad if you needed to?”_

_“Come on Scott, I wasn’t a big deal he just caught me off guard; and you know my dad’s retired, I don’t want to drag him back into this kind of life again, he deserves some time in the apple pie life, so does my pops. I thought I could handle it and I did, Josh, the chimera, is with Argent now, it’s all good, okay?”_

_A heavy sigh left the lips of the alpha werewolf, “Okay, yeah, I get it, just, next time, call me okay? I’ll help you, you know that. I’m always here.”  A rush of air left the hurt boy’s lips,_

_“I know Scotty, and I’m sorry. I should’ve called, I just, I wanted to be able to do something, and I always feel so helpless, like I’m not doing enough. I just wanted to help. I wanted to do something to make it better ever since -.”_

 _“No, don’t do that Stiles. You do more than enough. You help out so much with everything, and Donovan wasn’t your fault, it was self defense. He was trying to kill you; you had no idea that the one pin you pulled would do that. It_ is _okay; you need to know that, to believe that, because you aren’t bad, or a monster, you’re a hero. Do you know how many times you’ve saved my life? Or anyone else’s in the pack for that matter? You are amazing Stiles Stilinski, and I can’t think of anyone better to call my best friend.” Stiles closed the space between his body and Scott’s so quick the werewolf had almost fallen over, but he caught Stiles, like he always would, and hugged back just as tight._

** Present Time:  **

Trails of scars scattered his body. From a small scar on his left temple to a collection of lightening like scars across his arms, down to the callused and scarred tissue of his feet. The color seemed to have drained from his skin leaving him with an almost ghost like complexion, the light blue hospital gown made him look even paler in comparison. His moles however, are still the same, in the same place, and still defining him with their contrast in color.

He looked somehow smaller since the last time Scott had seen him, thinner obviously, but just, smaller, as if he had shrunk down, lost the confidence and bolder structure he once had. His arms and legs weren’t as large either he noticed, they were smaller, yet defined and looked as if they had been strained too much, but could still do some damage to an enemy if needed.

The one thing that stuck out to Scott was his hair. In the last fifteen months his hair had seemed to be the only thing to stay the same, and that confused him. If he had been gone for fifteen months, most likely kidnapped and tortured, if his physical condition was anything to go by, then why would someone take the time to make sure his hair stayed the same and looked perfect?

The ideas and thoughts of what could have possibly happened to his best friend, to his Stiles, shook him to his core. The possibilities of anything Stiles could have gone through troubled him and most of all scared him. This was Stiles, the one he had grown up with, the one who was there when his dad had left, the one with him through asthma attacks, the one there for him when Peter bit him, the one there for him when he couldn’t control the shift, he was there when Allison died, when the hunters came, he had survived the Nogitsune, when Kate came back from the dead, when he had bitten and kidnapped Liam, when he had become a berserker, and when the Chimera’s began to pop up. Stiles had been there, unfortunately, like the rest of the pack, he came to trust Theo, an old friend who showed up and saved Scott’s life right before the Chimeras began to appear.

The difference between the pack’s relationship to Theo, and Stiles’, was that Stiles had fallen for the Chimera, and in turn had suffered worse than the rest of the pack. He trusted him more than he should’ve, and he regretted it, more than anything. He gave Theo a chance, and he became one of the most trustworthy people in his life, he was there for him. When Theo came back, Stiles never thought that the relationship he and Theo had would blossom to what it had become, but he also never thought it would lead to and turn out the way that it had.

Slow beeps of the EKG monitor emitted through the sparse hospital room, being the only sign that the unconscious teen was still alive. He’d given them a scare when he came in; three minutes of attempting to resuscitate him before he finally came back. Melissa wouldn’t give up on the boy who she’d seen as a son; she’d lost him once, and couldn’t lose him again. Stiles had only said it once, but he saw Melissa as his mother, she had been there for him through everything, just like Scott, and he considered her family; and he’d do anything for family.

A lot of people had lost him that day, the day he went missing; Scott, and Stiles’ dads had taken it the hardest. Stiles was their anchor, he was Scott’s help through the shift and the one thing that helped to keep his dads and uncle from going out to hunt again. Being the son of a retired hunter and an angel of the Lord was hard when they left sometimes to go out on hunts, and they hadn’t actually settled down until Stiles was about four, staying with Bobby when his dads went out. It bothered Stiles because he only saw his dads maybe three times a week before they went out again, but as time went on the spent more time with Stiles and less time out hunting. The worst about it all was when they would come back from hunts; although dad was an angel he had trouble healing the both of them before they returned back. Stiles would often see the two of them with cuts and bruises, and blood covering their clothes, but at the time he had just been happy they were back and safe, and he could spend time with them. He knew what they were doing was good, they were saving people, and he knew that the two of them loved him; they told him all the time and he loved them just as much, he just hated what they did. He remembers the feel of dread go through him every time his dads would leave and unfortunately, that was the same feeling he had the night he went missing, the heavy feeling in his stomach, his throat closing up, he found it hard to breathe and his lungs having a hard time taking in air, but he brushed it off as nerves; that was naivety.


End file.
